Sands in the bottle
by PSsisndjifmdks
Summary: After several demon attacks, the Clave grows suspicious that the attacks in Idris has been planned by the returning, ever powerful Sebastian. In order to get him, they plan on baiting Clary & stop the madness. Is the Clave doing the right thing? Post-CoG.
1. Full Stop

**Author's Note: **_*waves* Hi, everyone. Well, here I am, back to writing fanfics. I've told you before that Missing Chances is going to be rewritten and now, this is the rewritten version. I've told you it's better and it actually is. I'm getting upset about the delay of The Mortal Instruments movie casting, I'm just pissed about it. Luckily, Lily Collins is already set to play Clary, she's perfect. Now, I've said lots of things. *sighs* Thanks for opening this story to read, thank you, and I hope you'll enjoy what I have written. *crosses-fingers*_

**Summary: **_After several demon attacks, the Clave grows suspicious that the attacks in Idris has been planned by the returning, ever powerful Sebastian. In order to get him, they plan on baiting Clary & stop the madness. Is the Clave doing the right thing? Post-CoG._

**Rating: **_T to be safe_

**Disclaimer:**_ Cassandra Clare owns the characters, I only own the story._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: Full Stop<strong>

* * *

><p>Vivid and luminous sparks exploded into the starless space above her red curly locks.<p>

She lifted her head up, along with the golden haired boy standing next to her, and saw the fireworks designedly brightening the darkened sky. It was a starless and cloudless night, and Clary could even see the some figures out in the space.

Then, she caught him staring at her. His eyes scanned obviously into her fair-looking face, and a strange smile that broke his lips. Rolling her eyes, she bowed her head again and stared at the ground.

Fingertips soothingly slipped down and locked its way into the spaces between her slender fingers. She looked up, seeing Jace as he lifted her hand, still locked together, and kissed her knuckles. His eyes fluttered shut slowly as possible, happily watching the light being swallowed by darkness. He kept his hands interlocked with hers.

His lips traveled its way into her skin, his lips damping into her delicately smooth skin. Green irises faded as her eyelids closed just like him; a jolt of electrifying current running into her veins along with her blood and up to her spine, making her cringe. Then, his other hand went into her waist, pulling her closer as possible. Their chests pressed against each other, and feeling each beat of their hearts—seemingly to shout each other's name.

He released her fingers from his own, letting it wrap around his neck along with its other pair. Her fingers curled his hair, wrapping it around her fingers smoothly. She opened her eyes, immediately melting inside as if she's on fire, seeing Jace's luminous golden orbs—shining like the fireworks in the sky.

A grin broke her lips, making his smile the sexier way, combining it with a soft giggle erupting from her narrow throat. He pulled her up, crooking his head into her neck. She rested her head over his shoulder, waiting for him to speak. "Jace," she called.

He hummed him answer, his eyes now close and trailed kisses into her bare neck. He wanted to bit her skin like a vampire, except that he's not a vampire. Instead, he damped his wet lips into her soft skin and she cringed inside. He felt her shivers while into his arms. "I love you so much, Clarissa," he confessed. He pulled away, his eyes now opened.

His eyes were like the only sun that would shine in the night and the only star that would appear in daylight. She darted her eyes to her, locked and their contact was unbreakable. His eyes were the lightest type of honey, flecked with some shades mixing with the original color of his irises.

She felt his hands slipped into her cheeks, cupping her face without pressure and lifting her head up. She stared at him. She felt guilty after pushing him a thousand times after he would try to show his love for her, but he still do love him. "I love you too, Jace Lightwood," she stated, never eyes from his own. Then, he caught her hand from his cheeks, pressing it against his skin, "Probably, this is the last romance in my entire life. I want to share it with you Jace; I can't imagine how to stay away from you. I _love_ you." Then, he leaned down—his hands sliding back into her cheeks—and pulling her face to him.

Tiptoeing, their lips touched softly. His lips wrapped around hers, feeling her respond into his kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling into his bright curls, just as his hands traveled into her curved waist. He pulled her close, closer than it was before, and their closeness made her feel suffocating into his chest—her heart desiring to explode right now.

The kiss was soft and passionate and fierce. He bit her lips slowly, as she bit his lips too, and a chuckle escaped from his throat. She grinned into the kiss, trying to catch his lips one last time before they broke off from the kiss.

Pulling away, he saw her eyes closed and her lips trembling as if wanting for more. His lips broke into a meaningful grin, and soon, she stirred her eyes open. "Meeting you in Pandemonium is the second best thing that has ever happened to me," he started, and suddenly stopped. He let his mouth open and a soft and reassuring sigh escaped his mouth.

"What's the first?" Clary asked, frowning at him.

"Knowing that there is someone who loves me for who I am and understands every piece of my life, someone who knows the real me." He answered. He kept his head low, slightly embarrassed after saying that.

Clary stared at him, before bursting into giggles. She curled herself while laughing at him. Jace sighed, and laughed along with her. Hearing her giggle or laugh, makes him laugh along with her; seeing her smile, makes him break the grin into his lips too. There's nothing that can make him stop copying everything she does. "Jace, for the Angel's sake, are you nuts?"

"Maybe." He snorted, slipping his fingers back into her hand and flashed the knee-weakening smile in his lips.

"Mr. Jace Lightwood," she called, placed her hand over his shoulders and slowly sliding it down into his bare arm, feeling the muscles in her palm. "Like I said, you're the last romance that I'll have in my life." He stopped moving, folding his arms across his massive chest and continuously stared at her. Her hands rested into his folded arms and smiled, "I love you, Jace, and if I ever told you that I don't love you anymore—I would be lying all along. Nothing can make me change my feelings for you, and that'll continue flowing, even after death. Jace, you are everything to me. Half of my heart belongs to you." Tears dropped from her eyes, and she felt that burning pain into her eyelids. She giggled, feeling so melodramatic about her words.

She lifted a hand to wipe the tears away but he shoved her hand away and wiped her tears with his own fingers. His fingers curled, and wiped those tears that had stained her fair-looking face. "What about the other half?"

She frowned. "Are you being selfish?" Then, she giggled, "I still have a mother, a father, and friends. Of course, I have to love them too." She leaned forward and pecks his lips with hers. She stayed her eyes closed, "But I love you, more than anything, more than anyone."

He leaned forward to steal another kiss, but immediate interruption arrived.

"Stop showing public display of affection, please." Magnus snapped, pushing away from Jace. Then, the golden haired boy looked back, seeing the flamboyant warlock standing behind him. Magnus seems to be looking for someone, probably Alec.

"Look who's talking," Jace laughed, flashing a wide grin into his face which made him more gorgeous, "Last I checked, you kissed—oh, probably made out with Alec in the Hall of Accords."

"I'm gonna turn you into a rodent." Magnus warned, readying his fingers for a snap. Clary stepped in, giggling loudly, and stopped Magnus from snapping his fingers. He looked down at the short, red-headed girl standing opposite to him.

"Magnus, I really appreciate you helping us all though out. Especially, waking up my mother. But turning my boyfriend into a rodent is most unlikely the thing I wanted to see. No one wants to have a rodent boyfriend." Clary pointed out. Magnus raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly questioning her explanation, but he did not spoke.

Then, he turned his eyes pass Jace, sighting Alec chatting with his sister and Simon a few steps away from him. "That's Alexander." He walked pass them and walked to his boyfriend. Clary and Jace followed Magnus as he clings around Alec.

"_Bisexuals_." Clary and Jace mumbled.

Clary turned to Jace, grabbing his hand into up into his muscles, and butterflies made its way into her stomach. She felt clearly happy for tonight.

Thinking that the one you truly love is your brother is probably the hardest thing Clary had experience in her entire life, despite all of the battles and the hardships she faced about being one of the Nephilims. "Do you want to go home?" Jace asked, continuously running his hand into her curls.

"Sure, I'm quite tired as well." Then, he pulled her into a hug, leaning his lips into her head. He kissed her head. His lips damped into her skin, sending her shivers inside. Jace is the only one who could possibly do that.

Probably the only one who Clary would allow to do that.

* * *

><p>The pathway was narrow, even a car would not fit in the rough streets.<p>

They weren't talking since they left the party. Jace decided to walk her to Amatis's house. Their fingers were intertwined with each other, exploring the softness of each other's skin. Clary saw the scar in Jace's knuckles, which Jace told her about how he broke the glass with his hand because he was so depressed and annoyed about her when she came to Idris.

Clary found it overreacting but she did not spoke.

He stared at her. The wind whistled as it blew past them. Jace watches as her hair gets blow by the whistling wind and fiddled it with his fingers. Her hair played along with his fingers, soft and smooth.

Clary looked up at him, feeling his hand into her hair. "What's wrong with my hair? Is there dirt or something?" She asked, frowning. She threw a hand over her head and touched it. Then, Jace burst out laughing.

"It doesn't always mean that if I touched your hair, there is dirt." Then, she sent him a glare. "No offense, but you're overreacting. Anyways, I love your hair, soft and smooth and shiny." She traveled her fingers into his blond curls, fiddling it playfully.

"I like you hair than mine, it's beautiful." She stated.

"Well, have I told you that I have a thing for red haired angels?" Then, she laughed.

Arriving by the staircases to Amatis's front porch, Clary stood at the first step and turned to Jace. She ran her hands into his neck and cupped his face, pulling him into a kiss. At first, it was bitter when he didn't kissed back. She soon felt his lips wrapping around hers, kissing her back. Then, his hands roamed into her arms, caressing it gently. Instead of feeling heat, she felt shivers in her muscles as if she's been electrified or cold wind has just passed her. Yet, she ignored it.

She continued kissing him, full on the mouth, without exemption. There was no one who would stop them again—not her totally evilly devious father or her attention seeker half-demon brother or anyone who wanted them apart. She loves him, and practically everyone knows that.

He pulled away, and saw her eyes were still closed. She stirred it open, making him see those bright emerald irises, shining against the bright fireworks in the sky. From where they stand, they could still hear the explosion of fireworks and the cheers of the people. Everyone is happy that the battle is all over, that Valentine and his minions are gone.

Clary grinned at him, "Would you like to stay? I don't want to be alone." He stared at her, exploring her mind using his eyes. He couldn't read her. She was telling him something, something she fears, but she cannot verbalize it in anyway. He rubbed her arms again, gently and his fingers felt her heat melting her inside.

"What about Luke? Your mom? Amatis?" Jace asked, worriedly.

"Jace, they won't mind. We just got together again." She gripped his hands, feeling the toughness of his knuckles, and the softness of his palms. "Plus, we won't do anything stupid, right? I just want to lay with you, sleep with you, so when I woke up, I'll see the face of the man I love."

"Fine, and that's because I want you to see the most gorgeous man in the world, and oh—that's me." Clary whined as he stated that. She grabbed his again, and pulled up the stairs. He took the steps and watched as she twisted the silver doorknob open.

They entered. The house is the same as they way they had left it. The books Luke had brought a few years ago were scattered above the coffee table. Luke was still deciding if he'll bring the books back toNew Yorkand sell them into a bargain shop or leave it here. Amatis suggests bringing it with him, but Luke wanted to keep it.

The kitchen door was wide open, but it was dark. Clary went pass the living room and got up the stairs. She noticed Jace was standing behind her, unmoving. "Aren't you coming?" He shrugged, burying his hands into his pockets. Then, he grinned, seductive and meaningful in Clary's eyes. He seems to be using his eyes as a magnet for her to immediately run up to him and kiss him.

Nevertheless, she had just kissed him in the front porch, and into the party. Hadn't he had enough?

"Well, if you're expecting me to run and kiss you, you've had enough of me." He rolled his eyes, and turned his eyes back to her. He shrugged once more, letting a soft chuckle to erupt from his throat.

"Come on, Clary, one last time. Something private." He tried to convince her, "I just missed your lips."

"So, the kisses in the party and in the front porch weren't enough?"

"Probably." He mumbled, raising an eyebrow at her, "You couldn't even resist me."

"Who says I can't resist you? I tried to push you away a thousand times." Clary snapped, giggling as she saw the pleading look on his face. He looked cute, she thought.

"That's—," he stopped as she immediately jumped into him. He didn't get to finish his statement when her lips crashed into his own, pushing himself into a deep kiss. He grabbed one of her thighs and pulled it around his waist. Her other thigh went around his waist and locked with her other. He carried her, pushed her into the nearest wall. She pulled away from the heated kiss.

"Is this what you mean of private?" She asked, huskily into his ears, as he crooked his head to trail kisses on her neck. She moaned, feeling the soft lips damping gently on her skin. Sweat instantly poured into her forehead, feeling the heat in her body continuously falling. Her eyes shot open when she felt him nibble her neck. "Please, don't give me a hickey." Then, she heard him chuckle.

She moaned once more, arching her back to push herself towards him again. He pulled his head back, and stared at her darkened green irises. He smashed his mouth into her again, and he licked her lower lip with his tongue—begging for entrance. She opened her mouth as well, grant permission. She felt his tongue explore her mouth gently, and she fought his tongue with her own.

Tongues battles in dominance, heatedly and passionately. They continued to explore each other's mouth, tasting the familiar bitter drink their both shared back into the party. His hand traveled from her waist into her thighs, caressing it gently. Her hands roamed into his nape, playing along with his curls and deepening their kiss.

It was more of a kiss, more likely a make-out.

They continued kissing, full on the mouth. His lips brushed against hers and hers to his. Their tongues were still in battle, fierce and passionately desperate. Fingers fiddled into his curls, which were all soaking wet with the sweat that had poured into him because of this heatedly make-out session.

Soon, she pulled away, gasping and panting. Her heart thundered inside her ribcage, beating as loud as it could that she might have heard it. Her chest pressed against his chest, his heart beats louder than hers. Then, he lifted a hand to brush off the hair from her forehead, "I haven't got to finish my statement a while ago because you jumped at me." She giggled, jumping away from him.

"It was a perfect timing though." She said, "What were you going to say a while ago?"

"That you had every reason to push me away before, now you don't have any." She opened her mouth to fight back, but she found herself voiceless. No words came out from her shaking lips. "You're saying something?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Then, she jabbed him into his arm.

"Maybe I haven't got any reasons, but don't you like it?"

"Of course I do, every part of you. You're beautiful, Clary, the most beautiful girl in the world." He sighed, leaning into peck her lips into a short kiss.

"I bet you're lying." She mumbled.

"Why would I lie? _L'amore__può__fare cose__stupide__, buono__o cattivo__, è__ancora__amore_."

"What does that mean?" She asked, frowning at his statement, "Is that French?"

"No it's Italian." He said, fiddling her hair again, "It means that love can do such things, stupid things, but it's still called love. Even though how many times you have to spin the world back and forth, and shake it, the meaning of this word will never change."

"Thank you, Jace, for everything—especially for loving me even though I tried to push you away."

* * *

><p><strong>To Evelina<strong>

_Review will be loved. Thank you for reading._


	2. Man to Man

**Author's Note: **_Nothing much, just read and review. It's very important to me._

**Summary: **_After several demon attacks, the Clave grows suspicious that the attacks in Idris has been planned by the returning, ever powerful Sebastian. In order to get him, they plan on baiting Clary & stop the madness. Is the Clave doing the right thing? Post-CoG._

**Rating: **_T to be safe_

**Disclaimer:**_ Cassandra Clare owns the characters, I only own the story._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two: Man to Man<strong>

* * *

><p>Red curls scattered into the white soft pillow, Jace watched as Clary sleeps next to him. He wanted to stay awake and watch her all night, wonder what inside her mind, what she's dreaming about. Thoughts filled his head, unbelievable crazy thoughts—thought about him being with the girl he thought to be his long lost sister and also happens to be the only girl he ever loved.<p>

She stirred, her eyes fluttered as if she was seeing things. He wondered what are the images flashing beneath her eyelids, but he just wanted to wonder and never know the answer. It makes Clary more mysterious and curious. He wanted to be curious about her, know every part of her.

He leaned forward—his hand traveled into her skin, brushing the curls away from her eyes. She sure felt the warmth of his fingers into her skin, which made her stir a little bit. Then, she slightly opened her eyes, her emerald irises slowly appearing before Jace. "Hey, you're still awake," she murmured, breaking a smile into her pale lips.

His finger pressed into her lips, and soon traveled back into her hair and buried his fingers in her soft bright curls. He hushed her, forming his lips in a somewhat a beak-like shape and leaned in to peck her lips. "Sleep, Clary, we'll have the last day tomorrow in Idris and I plan on having it with you." Her eyes shut down, the dim light and image of her room faded in darkness. Her lips weren't moving, and he wanted to touch it again with his lips, but he didn't want to disturb her sleep once more.

"I love you, Clary, so much." He leaned to kiss her forehead, his wet lips damping into her skin.

She looks so beautiful, probably the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his entire life. Her emerald eyes shining like fresh cool garden, with some shade of other colors. She also had the most kissable lips, the tastiest and the sweetest lips he ever kissed. Her skin was delicate as a glass, fragile that small scars have marked her skin after the long fight and battle with her notorious evilly devious father, Valentine.

Those curly red strands sticking in her skin, they look beautiful in Jace's eyes. It was as bright as the blazing fire and reddest shade of red in his eyes. Some tinier curls were laying downwards her neck, and they seemed to be rolled from rollers which Clary would hardly do and spent her time with.

He turned his head, after hearing a silent and soft knock into the wooden door of Clary's bedroom. He saw the fatherly image of Luke, standing against the doorframe with his arms cross into his chest. Jace lifted his finger to press it just to his lips, signaling Luke to silence.

Luke nodded his head, continuously stared at Jace. Jace lies down next to the sleeping Clary, and he turned his head into Clary. She was silently breathing, lying on her stomach and her right hand resting over her hair in the pillow and her other hand resting under the other pillow. Her eyes stirred, seems to be dreaming.

Jace heard a whistle and he looked back. Luke waved his hand as if to call the young man towards him. Jace stood up, and took one last glance at Clary. She looks peaceful, she seems to be undisturbed. Then, he walked to Luke. They exited the room, and Luke pulled the silver doorknob into his fingers, closing the door as silent as possible. "Would you like some tea? I'd rather ask you because you seem to be planning on watching her sleep all night." Luke stated, nudged an arm around Jace.

Jace kept silent and suddenly glance at Luke. Luke had slipped his arm off from his shoulders and slowly patted. "Yeah," he agreed, "That would be likely." Luke nodded his head.

They walked into the narrow dimmed corridor to the stairs. There was still silence in between them. Luke's heels clacked into the creaking steps, just Jace's heels do. They've reach the kitchen, which Jace had seen a while ago as a dark room with nothing else could be seem but just pitch black darkness. Jace steps into the dim-lighted kitchen, seeing the large square kitchen table on the side of the door. He watched as Luke pulled two seats and handed him one.

Jace sat down; waiting for the tea Luke had offered him. Luke went into the cabinet, and swung the door open. He pulled things down from the cabinet and looked back Jace. "How long has she been asleep?" Luke asked, walking back into Jace with two cups of newly-prepared tea in his hands. He pushed the other cup to Jace before taking a sip into his own.

"About two hours." Luke sits next to Jace.

Jace didn't look up, and continuously stared down at his cup, and into the blurring hot tea. Then, he looked up, noticing that Luke was silent. Jace took another sip and stared at Luke.

"So, you are watching my _daughter_ sleep for two hours while we're at the party? That's completely generous of you, Jace." Luke didn't sound stern at all. He sounds concerning and glad—glad that Clary had found someone like Jace, probably the only man existing in the world with the attitude like him.

"_Daughter_?" Jace echoed, narrowing his eyes as he continued to look at Luke.

"What? Do you expect me to call her and well…" Luke trailed off, clearing his throat, "And look the same as they way I look at her before I went propose to Jocelyn for marriage like she's not my daughter."

"You look at her like she's your daughter, before and after you have proposed to Jocelyn."

"Well, it's different now." Luke frowned at him, avoiding Jace's eyes.

Jace sighed, setting the emptied cup aside, "Not to her, not to Clary and that's for sure." Luke didn't answer. The time was filled with silent and finishing drinks, but none of them talked. Jace for sure is right about what he said, and Luke knew it. He really just wanted to be a fatherly image to Clary, even before he ever proposed to Jocelyn. Somehow, he still looked impressed that Jace had seen deeper inside him, like what he had seen deeper in Clary, Alec and Isabelle.

Luke glanced up again, but Jace wasn't looking at him. However, he met those golden luminous irises shining against the dim-light bulb. He already knew what Clary had seen in Jace, asides from being stunningly attractive. He knew Stephen Herondale pretty much better, except from Valentine. Stephen was kind, just like his mother, and instantly fell in love with Luke's beautiful sister Amatis.

But when Luke had broke out of the Circle, Valentine had offered Stephen to be his second-in-command—even interfering in Stephen's relationship with Amatis, saying that Amatis isn't beautiful enough to be his wife and isn't powerful enough like any of the shadowhunters.

Amatis is one of the beautiful ladies in the Circle, along with Jocelyn and Maryse. But with the death of the parents, Luke knew his sister had gone weak, knowing that there aren't many things that Amatis can pull some strength off—that there aren't things left in the world to make her better, to make her feel like it's normal.

"You love her?" Luke asked. Jace turned to him, which meant Luke had caught his attention for one, "Clary, I mean." He added, leaning his arms into the table. He waited for the golden haired boy to speak. But Jace shrugged, pressing his lips together. "I hope you're serious about her." Luke said with his voice sharper and a little harsh.

"Why does everything I'm not serious about her?" Jace snapped, trying not to sound so pissed.

"Because I know what you are, Jace."

"Then, what am I?" Jace asked, looking bravely at Luke, "If you're thinking that I'm playing with Clary, maybe our relationship is different. I never really felt committed with anyone before—," Jace broke off. He lifted a hand to cover his lips and suddenly cleared his throat, "before I met Clary."

Luke stared at him, trying to find the lies in his lips and in his eyes—but he found nothing. There weren't any lies in Jace's eyes, he is telling the truth. Maybe it's time for Luke to trust Jace and throw away the fact that Valentine had raised Jace in his own ways and that Jace might be like Valentine.

"If you're gonna have to hurt her—"

"That's not happening." Jace interrupted, his voice rising. But he tried to control his anger. His eyes darkened, showing a darker shade of gold—a rusted shade. Luke did not respond. "I love Clary—and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I know it's too early to say this, but I'm gonna have to marry her someday. I wouldn't let anyone hurt her, even if I have to kill everyone—even me."

Luke looked down; he bowed his head and fell silent for a moment. Jace didn't expect Luke to speak, but he still waited. The silent between seems to be seals and bound by truth and trust. Luke wanted to trust Jace, but he doesn't know what has gotten into him that keeps him from trusting Jace.

Then, Jace decided to stand up. He turned to Luke and broke a faint grin. "I'm just gonna go upstairs. I don't want Clary to be alone. Thanks for the tea, by the way." Luke watched as Jace strode out of the door, with faint footsteps fading into the floor. Luke found himself sitting alone and thinking about the conversation they had.

* * *

><p>Pushing the door open, he immediately saw Clary.<p>

She was sitting in the bed, hugging her legs into her chest. He saw the look on the face, she looked sacred. He pushed the door close again, never taking his eyes off her. She avoided his eyes, by keeping her head down. He took faint steps towards her and sits into the bed.

"You're awake? I told you to sleep again." Jace told her. The red shade of her hair didn't fade, it was still there but the color seems to be light. It wasn't that dark anymore. She didn't answer, but he still waited. "What's wrong, Clary? Did you have a nightmare? Did someone break in? Are you sick?" At his questions, she continuously shook her head. Then, he frowned at her. She still didn't open her mouth to speak. Her eyes were darkest, probably the darkest shade of green he had ever seen.

Something is bothering her and he wanted to find that out. "Clary, talk to me." He convinced, placing a hand in her chin. He pulled her face. Her eyes were in tears, burning up as if it was flames as she felt the heat beneath her eyelids. She is holding her tears back. "Please, baby, talk to me."

"I heard your conversation with Luke." She spoke up. He bit his lip and let out a sigh of defeat.

"How much have you heard?" He asked, bravely. She swallowed and stared at him. A tear slides down from her eyes, and her hand immediately went up to wipe the tear away—keeping him from seeing that she's crying. Then, she smirked humorlessly, seems to be annoyed or feeling the stupidity to herself.

"I've heard much enough." She mumbled, and sniffed. Then, she looked up again. Tears continued to well back into her eyelids as she tried to hold them back. But as she tried harder, the more burning pain she felt into her eyes. "Does Luke give you a hard time?"

"Not really." He murmured. He watched her as she lies down comfortably into her chest, and his hand went immediately into the back of his head and the other into her hair. He felt her hand over his chest, and it didn't really tickle him much. She looked up at him, feeling the warmth of his fingers into her cheeks.

"You sound so depressed. I'm sorry if Luke is talking to you like that, I'll just talk to him tomorrow." Clary stated, her hands traveled down into his hands. Their fingers intertwined, locking each finger into each space.

"Don't worry about it. It's better that he knew what my real intention is." He brushed her hair, "I love you, Clary, and I know you know that."

"I do." She faintly cried, "And I love you too." She looked up at him, just as he looked down at her. Freshly green irises met his golden ones. His eyes were nearly the same shade as his curls, falling down into his eyes but he ignored it. Then, she sat up and he just waited her for whatever she will do. Staring down at his lips, she wanted to kiss him right now. Then, he felt her lips crash into him, damping into the wetness of their touch. He felt revived, as if brought back from the dead, but he knew he wasn't dead.

The kiss wasn't really fierce as it was before, but he knew feeling her lips on him was the best feeling he has felt before. She waited for him to kiss her back, until he kissed her. She felt his lips to kiss her back, moving over her smoothly and gently. His hands traveled into her waist, pulling her close.

She pulled away, breaking a smile without showing much of her teeth. "Now, that's relieving, wasn't it?" He shrugged, and grinned with her. She leaned down and hugged him tight. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her tighter into a hug. Clary never wants to end this night, ever. She just wanted to lay down with Jace, talk to him, kiss him, hug him and never worry about the world's problems again.

She wanted to be with Jace Lightwood, as much as he wanted to her to be with him.

Thinking that Jace is her brother is the hardest of all, especially pushing him a thousand times before—but he didn't not give up, knowing that their relation is somehow unfair and untrue. He knew, by feeling, that they weren't related anyway. He knew all along that she was feeling the same way with him.

She wished they could stay like this forever.

* * *

><p><strong>To Krizline<strong>

_Review will be loved. Thank you for reading._


	3. Deafening Conversations

**Author's Note: **_I'm sorry for the late update. I went away for a three day vacation and made two fan-made videos of Clary and Jace with songs of Paramore. Message me if you want to watch it because it's actually good. Tomorrow, I'm planning on making a fan-made trailer for City of Bones, an attempt of course. Anyways, in this chapter, I find this one creepy and weird; anyways, the marriage idea just popped into my mind and it wasn't actually part of the plot, but let's just fit it in. Ooh, did I just spoil you with that? Sorry, guys, I'm too noisy. Anyways enjoy reading and don't forget reviewing me about it. I love reviews and I want to get more! Enjoy!_

**Summary: **_After several demon attacks, the Clave grows suspicious that the attacks in Idris has been planned by the returning, ever powerful Sebastian. In order to get him, they plan on baiting Clary & stop the madness. Is the Clave doing the right thing? Post-CoG._

**Rating: **_T to be safe_

**Disclaimer:**_ Cassandra Clare owns the characters, I only own the story._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: Deafening Conversations<strong>

* * *

><p>Light pushed the darkness away, and sunlight entered the wide open window.<p>

Jace hadn't got any sleep, not a blink, as he kept watching his girlfriend sleep next to him. He kept thinking about the conversation Luke and he had last night. What if Luke is right? What if he did something wrong, terribly wrong, that could cost the death of their relationship? He wouldn't let that, he couldn't let that. He loves Clary too much to let go of her that easy.

After all what they have done to prove that they weren't related, to prove that they love each other, they already had reached the peak of the all the hardships they experienced. They're already together, and no one could stop them. His eyes flickered, against the shining sunlight beaming from the windows.

Jace lifted his hand, up into her forehead, and brushed the red strand from her skin. Her skin was wet, with the sweat that poured from inside her—probably because of the hotness of their room. There wasn't much wind blowing right now, not much to blow away the heat from their muscles, from their bodies. He pulled the thin white covered from their bodies, and threw it scattered down into the ground. He doesn't care if Amatis would be mad at him for dirtying the cover.

Then, he turned back to Clary. She sounded so asleep and peaceful and undisturbed. Her eyes didn't stir, her eyelids didn't move. He wondered what the images are flashing beneath her eyelid, what are the dreams she's having. He broke his lips into a smirk.

He soon heard her moan into her sleep. She moved away from him, and he tried to keep his eyes away from her. He doesn't want her to know that he's been staring at her for the last eight hours that he hasn't slept yet because of her. He doesn't want to make her feel uncomfortable about it because it wasn't really a big deal for him.

He watched as her, her eyes suddenly fluttering open. From the corner of her eyes, Jace could see the bright emerald irises—green as a fresh leaf. "You were staring at me all night, weren't you?" She found her voice, without looking at him. He didn't answer, he must have known that she would know whether he'd tell it or not. Then, he chuckled, rubbing his eyes lightly.

Clary crooked her head to him, smiling happily at him.

"Are my eyes that really obvious for you to know?" He asked back, sending her a questioning look. He felt her hand went into his cheeks and caressed it. Then, she playfully slapped it. "Is that really necessary?"

"Jace, don't be a baby." She whined, giggling at his actions, "Morning, honey."

"Morning, Clary." Then, he leaned forward. She watched as he went to her closer and closer, and felt their lips touched. An electrifying current ran up into her spines, as he placed his fingers into her cheeks—caressing it gently and lovely. Her cheeks heated, blood rushing into her muscles. He touched her cheekbones, as he moved his lips onto her. She didn't move, feeling the lips on her. He was kissing her, and she couldn't believe it.

Why every day in her life does has to end eventually?

Can't she just feel his lips forever? Taste the sweetness of his favorite melted chocolate into his lips?

How can that be possible?

Then, she began to move her lips into his. His hand slides down into her arm, gripping it tight and pulling her close. She did not struggle. His hands were rough and firm into her skin, but it made her feel more chills in her body.

The kiss was intimidating and suffocating but she'd rather suffocate than pull away. His lips taste better, than anyone she ever kiss—even Simon. His touch was like a flame in her skin, melting her as if she is a molded ice. She felt his fingers damping into her neck, rubbing her sweaty skin with his bare hands and he didn't care.

Strands of her flaming hair sticks into her forehead, as if a glue, because of the sweat.

He pulled away, they lips departed from each others. Her eyes were still close, and her mouth gaped, slightly open. His eyelids fluttered, seeing her eyes still closed, and he ran a finger into her nose. He heard her let out a glorious cute giggle. "Open, your eyes, Clary. I want to see them." A smile curved into her lips, and she fluttered her eyes open.

He found green eyes, drowning him inside her mind—in a field of green grassed and she lied next to him. The ground was uneven; slight sloped and an enormous tree, standing above them. She kept her eyes focused at him. She seems to be controlling his mind, making him see things she had longed before.

"Jace, when are we leaving?" She asked, her lips curving into a wide smile.

"Tonight. Magnus had promised the Clave that he'd made a portal for us to go back toNew York." He answered. Then, he leaned forward, nuzzling his nose into Clary's, which made her giggle. He leaned again, their hands intertwined, and their lips touched once more.

Before any of them could deepen it, they were interrupted. Jace pulled away and instantly looked back. His eyes widened, seeing his older brother standing there. Jace raised an eyebrow at Alec, who had his arms crossed into his chest. "Morning, lovebirds." He teased, giving the two a sarcastic look, "So, are you like gonna lie around all day? It's eight in the morning."

"Piss off, _Alexander_." Jace threw a pillow at him, and lied back into the bed, "You're ruining the day." His voice was stern and sharp. He doesn't want anyone to be appearing like that, because it's giving him creeps. Clary giggled as she lied next to him. Her elbow leaned into the white pillow and her hand went into her hair, tugging the soft curls in her head.

Then, Magnus shows behind Alec. Clary didn't mind what he wore; he just stood there with a plate of smoking pancakes in his hand. "Jace, no one called _him_ that, except _me_. Keep that in mind." Magnus walked pass Alec, humming in a familiar tune which made Clary laugh.

"Your boyfriend is cute." Clary stated, as she stared at Alec.

Jace frowned, staring at her, "Please don't tell me that you're crushing on a bisexual ageless warlock." Alec snorted at Jace, after his statement.

"Hey, that's my boyfriend you know." Alec scolded, throwing back the pillow into Jace's face. Jace caught it and stuffed it behind him. "You shouldn't tell things about him in front of me."

"So, you prefer that I should say it when you're not around?" Jace raised an eyebrow at him. Alec opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He swallowed, feeling the tightness and dryness of his narrow throat.

"No. What I meant is you shouldn't talk about Magnus like that at all."

"And no, Jace, I have no interest in Magnus. He belongs to Alec." Clary giggled. She turned to Alec and frowned at him, "Why are you here, Alec? Did Luke call me out?"

"Uh, yes, partially. The breakfast is served and luckily, I didn't mind to drag Isabelle in here because for sure, she'll burn down the kitchen and toast us." He pulled the door close and he disappeared. "Get your asses up and come into the kitchen." Then, he was gone.

Clary leaned in to peck Jace lips once more. Then, she pulled away. Her hand remained on his cheeks, caressing it gently. Her hands were soft, Jace thought, he wished her would stay there forever. She moved away from him, resisting the force of his hands in her waist which pulled her back. It never felt better before, not that they're really siblings at all. _They're not siblings at all_, and Clary is grateful about that—totally.

* * *

><p>His heels clacked into the wooden steps, hurriedly but slowly.<p>

He arrived by the kitchen, seeing Luke standing in the counter with a cup of hot coffee in his hand and ready to take his first sip. But Luke stopped, turning his eyes at Jace. Guilty swallowed his eyes that he cannot even look directly at the young man standing by the end of the stairs.

Jocelyn had lectured him about trusting Jace, for Clary trusts him. He turned around, breathing deeply and then slowly turned to Jace. "Good morning, Jace," he started. He tried his best to give his best impressions to him, but Jace seems to notice his anxiety about him and Clary, about their relationship. Jace give the older man a nod and slipped into the seat by the counter.

"Look, Jace—," he started but Jace leaned back uneasily.

"I'm sorry about my attitude last night." Jace interrupted, cutting off whatever Luke was about to say. Luke frowned, the end of his eyebrows meeting as he looked Jace in curiousness about what the young man had meant. "I shouldn't have talked to you last night like that. I should have respected you, but what I did was completely disrespectful. I just want to prove that I'm different now." Luke did not speak; he stared at his blurring coffee and took another short sip.

There was silence between them, none of the have talked. They just kept the silence worth the while. But Luke cannot take it anymore. He lifted his face up and looked at Jace. "I should be the one sorry. I shouldn't have questioned your intentions with Clary, which was actually for you to keep—because no one would want to question their relationship, would they?"

"Luke, I understand what you asked me last night. You're concerned about Clary's relationship with me because I'm a total douche and you're scared that I might hurt Clary, but like I said last night—I will make sure that no one gets to hurt her, even though it was me or if I have to kill myself with that." Jace stated, his voice rising. Maybe one of them is right, but Clary knows that she loves Jace and whatever happens—which mean by whatever, is if he hurts her or breaks up with her or leave her—nothing will ever change.

Clary sits in the last fifth steps of the stairs, leaning her back into the wall. Jace should never have fought for this. She trusts him enough, and Luke knows that. Her hair fiddled into her shoulders, as it pressed against the wooden wall and she turned her head. A sigh let out her lips, exhausting and tiring.

_Clary_.

She heard her name being called, which made her head turn at the top of the stairs. Jocelyn stood there, her same red hair pinned up and her hands tugging the hems of her robe. She gestured her daughter to come up, and looked pass Clary to make sure no one's there and back into the corridor to see that Alec and Magnus weren't listening at all. She crossed her arms tighter, against her chest.

She stood up from the steps and walked slowly to her mother. Jocelyn took steps backward and hid into the nearest wall as Clary arrives in front of her. "Hey, mom." Clary waved a little, pushing her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans.

"Luke told me about the conversation he had with Jace last night, and I am sure that you heard enough of the conversation of the two in the kitchen." Jocelyn started, noticing that Clary keeps on avoiding her mother's eyes. She already knew Clary is feeling uneasy about the things, because Jocelyn was certainly feeling uncomfortable when her daughter is around Jace—probably also because he is raised by the man she hates the most, the man who made her firstborn as monster. Valentine. "He's not Valentine, Clary. Your father is way different than Jace, and I believe that he cannot hurt you, not the way you're father had done to me, to you and to Jonathan."

"Mom," Clary pleaded. She played with her fingers and bowed her head, holding back the tears from her eyes. Then, she looked up, sniffling silently and giggled. "I just hope you trust me, because I trust him. I have never given my trust to anyone, without exemption—without even thinking about it. But he saved my life in the first place. He helped me survive when you're not there, when no one was willing to help me, when Luke's not willing to help me at all, when I'm just a stupid innocent mundane girl who had fallen into the dark hole of menace. He caught me, saved me from being hurt, from being tormented."

Jocelyn placed her hand into the side of her daughter's cheek, caressing it softly. She knew what happened and she was thankful that Clary had met Jace, and that he had saved her. "I trust you as you trust him. Luke's just worried, but I told him not to. Jace is one of the trust-worthiest man I ever knew, but his words are powerful, Clary. He's brought up by Valentine."

"Do you doubt him?" Clary sounded so offended at what her mother just proposed.

"No, Clary, I don't doubt him or his intentions. I trust Jace that I am certainly _giving_ you to him. You're just sixteen, Clary, and that's too young." Jocelyn took her daughter's hand.

"What do you mean _giving_?" Clary frowned as she asked.

"It was, I think, three in the morning and Jace called me out of the room. He asked me something, I mean, he told me something. He knew that I have heard or known about his and Luke's conversation downstairs." Jocelyn stopped, gripping her daughter's hand. "He asked me if he could marry you when we get back intoNew York."

Clary's eyes widened at the moment her mother had said that. _Jace asked her if he could marry me?_ Clary asked herself, knowing that there was no answer in her mind, but she still asked. She took a simple glance at her mother, who curved a smile on her lips. "He asked that?"

Jocelyn nodded her head, "He's actually brave you know. He asked me that without even choking his words back. He's just talking directly like we're having a normal conversation."

Clary opened her mouth to speak, but she didn't find her voice. She felt tactless, voiceless. She swallowed her, down into her throat and looked back. The staircases were emptied, deserted with those creaking steps. Then, she turned to her mother. "Thanks, mom, and please don't tell him that we had this conversation."

"Isn't that the reason why we're talking here and not anywhere?" Jocelyn asked.

"Mom." Clary glared.

"Okay, I won't. I promise." Clary pulled her mother into a hug, a tight hug, wrapping her around her mother's shoulders and feeling her mother's arms around her too. She rested her head over her mom's shoulders. Then, Jocelyn pushed her away, slowly and looked up at her daughter's fair face. "I know you're going to say yes, but just take it easy. Let me marry Luke first."

Clary giggled, before nodding her head. "I will."

* * *

><p><em>Jace asked my mother to marry me?<em> Clary found herself going over and over about what Jocelyn had just told her. Jace asked Clary's hand from Jocelyn, from her mother, for marriage. She cannot believe all this things were happening at all. She closed her eyes, as she stood in front of the mirror.

What did he exactly saw in Clary? Everyone knows that she's just a simple mundane girl he met in Pandemonium, yet he still want to marry her. Not all things were exactly cleared up, actually, she thought. Was it really a coincidence that she was in the Pandemonium and Jace was there too? Was it a coincidence that Jace was there when she knew that something terrible had happened to her mother? Was it a coincidence when her father and the man who raised Jace is one? She wanted to answer those things, but she just doesn't know where to get the answers.

She sighed. Her fingers ran down into the fabric clothed around her skin, a bright yellow sleeveless top and tight denim pants in each of her legs. The fabric was soft and smoothly dripping in the end of her fingers. She looked up, noticing her wet hair fiddling in her shoulders and bouncing with every move she make.

Her fingers traveled into her fiery curls, touching it softly. She felt it rougher than she thought, and then she grabbed the hairbrush on the desk. She brought it up into her red curls and began brushing it softly. The strands brushed along with the hairbrush as she slides it down. The hair stretches down into her shoulders, falling and springing back into its original shape. She sighed, and rested the brush back into the desk.

The bedroom door opened, and Clary looked sideways. She expected to see Jace but she frowned when she saw a very different figure standing by the doorway._ Magnus_. "Hi, I don't expect you to come into my room. What's wrong?"

"It doesn't mean that when I came into your room, there is always something wrong." Magnus spats, crossing his arms around his chest. He walked around. Clary noticed he isn't wearing fashionable clothes—it was just tight jeans and a loose shirt. Clary feels really uncomfortable seeing him like this, he looks like he's gone from sleeping.

"Well, you wouldn't come in without a purpose, would you?" Clary asked, leaning herself into the desk beside her. She waited for him to answer. Then, he sits down into the bed, his palms leaning into the smooth covers of the bed. Then, his green-golden cat eyes fixed on her, staring at her uneasily.

"I have come in for a purpose, of course, darling." Clary frowned, waiting for him to continue. He shot her a look, a very meaningful glance, his green-golden eyes shining along with the sunlight beaming inside the not-so-big bedroom that Amatis had provided her. "I have heard you conversation with your mother—"

"You're eavesdropping?" Clary interrupted, her voice rising. Magnus leaned back, curling his lip and then chuckling at the way Clary reacts with his statement.

"Calm down, darling, I won't tell it to Blondie. It's like he's not gonna propose to you anyway."

Clary placed a finger into her lips, hushing him, "Someone might hear it."

"Oh, no one gonna come in, I promise you darling. Jace is downstairs, finishing his breakfast. Alec is still in the bathroom." Magnus said, feeling so comfortable in the bed.

"Why are you here, Magnus?" Clary asked, her voice was hard and stern. She fixed her eyes upon him, without taking any considerations on staring at him. She placed two hands over her waist and waited for an answer. "Are you here to lecture me about Jace being a douche?"

"No, I don't think Blondie is a douche. I think he's mad." Magnus stated.

"You think my boyfriend is insane?" Clary scoffed.

"No, darling, I don't intend to point that out. That's not what I meant, actually."

"But that's what you statement means, Magnus." Clary's eyes widened with every word she spoke, with every word that erupts from her throat—exploding like lava from the mouth of the volcano, she sounded angry at him. Then, she saw him shook his head. "I want to understand, Magnus. Jace loves me, and I love him back. Maybe everyone's thinking that he's still the douche bag I met in Pandemonium, but he changed—for me, for us." Clary explained.

"I never wanted to break you up. I'm here to talk to you about him—not about him being an asshole." Magnus snapped, rolling his eyes at the sixteen year old girl in front of him. She didn't answer, kept her lips together as he spoke. "What I meant of him being mad isn't about him being crazy, but about madly in loved with you."

"Don't you think I don't know that?" Clary asked.

"I do, but you don't," he said.

"What do you mean I don't, Magnus? I don't quite understand this conversation."

"You don't know how much he loves you." She opened her mouth to speak, but she found herself voiceless and swallowing the words back into her throat. He raised an eyebrow at her, knowing that she knew that he's right. "He'd give the moon for you if he could, even the sun at least or each star that shines in the sky. He changed for you, Clarissa darling. I've known him, probably since he transferred inNew York, but he doesn't know me. He'd screw up with girls and bitches, but that's nothing to him.

"Back in Pandemonium, that's where Jace saw you first and he couldn't even tear his eyes away from you. Then when you came into my party and you lost that rodent, that mundane who surprisingly became a vampire, he didn't care if he'll get back into the institute torn apart by vampires just to deal with your lost best friend. Then, he couldn't even control his feelings for you, Clarissa darling. Remember when Aline kissed him; he was angry at you for coming into Idris through an illegal portal?"

Clary nodded her head, keeping her head low.

"He was trying to be angry at you, Clary, but he couldn't. He couldn't stay away from you, even though you have a thousand reasons and ways to push him away and you also have to admit that you too cannot push him away entirely out of your life because you too loves him very much."

Clary nodded her head again. Then, she lifted her head. Tears welled into her eyelids, as she tried to hold it back, the tears felt like burning flames that would tear her eyes open. Magnus leaned forward, wiping the tear that had suddenly slid into her cheeks. "I just wanted you to know that you won't find any other man like him, not the way around." Magnus pointed out.

She bit her lips, hard and wanting it to bleed but she couldn't. Then, she nodded her head again. "Well, you're right, Magnus. I've been selfish—all I could think about is Simon, my mom, everyone but Jace. He's always there whenever trouble comes in; he's always there whenever I go."

"Don't worry, darling, when he finally proposes to you, I'll make sure your wedding comes better than your mother's—maybe earlier." Magnus reassured.

"Oh, please, my mom asked me not to marry earlier than her and I don't want to ruin the moment."

"Oh, certainly you won't, darling." Magnus whined.

* * *

><p><em><strong>To Jessie<strong>_

_Review will be loved. Thank you for reading._


End file.
